


Dawn Arises

by Silverfern500



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 22:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17630657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverfern500/pseuds/Silverfern500
Summary: The beginning of an epic, starring Zevran. Initiated by the Dalish Lavellan, Warden. Only you can deliver the intrigue, nay, inspiration, I seek to complete this story....





	Dawn Arises

War rages, near enough to their campsite to cause trouble. There is the scent of rotting flesh. The burning, acrid stench of fire, as ash lazily falls like snow. The faction's tents, set inside a small encampment, at the base of the hills. In the countryside of the northern Hinterlands. Easy to defend. Minimal guards at night, scouts across the area for quick alert to danger. It was peaceful there, to begin with, the Warden swore. Trees and brush enough to shield them. Valley enough to hide in. Mountain enough to provide safety from all save dragons, which were driven from the lands, weren't they? In any case, their camp was safe. Safe inside countryside only the Dalish knew. The warden would know. The battle of Hawke, had passed. The Chantry and the Circles of Magi, separated. Disbanded. A few of each had landed in their own faction, both sides seeking sanction. Seeking purpose. A war. Goodness knows, the warden needed a war. She knew, above all others, that she should have died in the Fifth Blight. Should have been killed by the Archdemon, at the time. Yet she lived. Ever seeking the next battle. The next war. Knowing that, since her survival, she would never rest, until the next sword was upheld against the next Big Bad.  
Alistair reigned in Ferelden. Wynne left to seek peace for the other Magi. Oghren, after the great battle, left in a drunken haze before the title "Hawke" ever became known. Sten remained, fighting alongside The Warden. She who was known only as a renowned Dalish warrier, and a seldom-rumored, former, Grey Warden. Leliana left. New skillset as a spy, she sought fortune elsewhere. As elusive as she was, the warden had no doubt she'd make a great spymaster. Elsewhere. For the titular warden, her journey was done. Her great story told, her battles won. Yet she wondered, where Leliana had gone, what had become of Hawke, and what had become of Morrigan. With her devil's child. Still, there was one left with her. One who made it hard to think of the others, long gone.  
Zevran.  
The rogue the warden had saved, the Crow, as he had been sent to kill her. Initially. His Antivan heritage rooted in romance, even he could not have predicted the warden's charm. When sent to Kirkwall, Zevran was beside himself. Eager to please, and, hesitant to leave his beloved. Hawke had not disappointed. Zevran, despite prior devotion, flirted shamelessly. When turned down, he merely shrugged. He had a warmer bed to return to. So that was that.  
Yet, when rifts began emerging through the plains, he was set another, more perilous task, by his beloved. Travel northeast, with token of his Warden, both champion and Dalish, she. Then contact the so-called Herald of Andraste.  
It seemed, The Warden had yet more battles to fight. Zevran had muttered, to himself. What more could she want? More than her freedom and her lover? Yet, he relished in delivering her both, as well as the promise of conquests to come....

/  
  
It was dusk. As hazy as the fade. Yet all seemed real to her. Above her glowed a portal, green and ebbing. A rift. There were shouts, from a woman skinnier than her. Red hair glistened above blood-splattered armor. "Cassandra, to the left!" She cried, raising her split hand toward the source of their suffering. Another creature emerged, and the bald elf to her right cursed in a language only the Warden picked up. In front of her, a man who seemed to shimmer in and out of existence with his large hat, was stealthily slinging daggers into the spawn that had come. Behind the herald, a mage. Adding hellfire to the fray. All in all, the battle was going remarkably well. Then, an entity known as Corypheus emerged. The fighters ahead of her, their mouths set in grim lines. Yet he approached her.  
  
"You should not be here, Warden." he intoned towards the former warrior.

"That you should be so lucky," She spat. For here, on the battlefield, were Leliana and Varric. Sten and Zevran. All bloodied and lain at her feet. Her men, the champion of Kirkwall's men, and the herald's. Here, was the Great Fight. Here she was meant to be. "You will pay, halam sahlin." Then, she drove her sword into his torso.

Yet, he barely bled. Instead, he grabbed the hilt of the sword, and wrenched it from her. While he laughed, and laughed.

/

"Ma sa'lath", Zevran breathed. Gently rousing the warden from slumber. "'Tis only a dream."

"What?" Gasped she, coming to inside their tent. Finely furnished with chests and low lamp-light. Soft, pillowy linens and one mirror in the corner. Her head hurt immensely, and she reached for whatever passed as drink beside their bed.

"Was it another vision? I hear those are quite pesky, perhaps I can offer you a head massage?" Zevran offered, for once quite innocent.

The woman, dressed down in sleeping clothes, waved him off. "Not now, da'mi." And she drank heartily of grog. Then, "I have a request, of you," A request, which she was not sure of yet. Though it would come to her. One way or another, she had to make contact with this Herald of Andraste. More specifically, the Herald's master spy. Leliana. She would be their in. There was much to come, and many battles yet to fight. The only thing sure to the warden, then, was that she had to be in that fight.

Perhaps to die, as she had eluded death in the fight that had made her the Hero of Fereldon.

"Lay back," Zevran implored. "Words can wait until the 'morn, no? Night was made for much more pleasant things. In Antiva, it would be a crime to speak until-"

The warden glanced at her love, who had followed her after all that had transpired, and feared for him, as her dream haunted her. "We are not in Antiva," she noted. "Still, I would hate to stop your mouth from doing other, more pleasant, things. As you say."

/

Zevran ruminated on his last coupling with his bondmate, as he traversed the mountains surrounding Skyhold. His adventures in defeating Enzo behind him, and chased from the Free Marshes, he was well on his way to his goal. He only hoped the warden and her troops would reach the stronghold shortly after him. Once, he was great at working solo. Now, he preferred his missions to be with a certain Dalish woman who set his mind aflay.

"Hello," he spoke to the first guardsmen that encountered him there. "You seem a decent fellow, I'd hate to kill you."

**Author's Note:**

> In Dalish, according to research.
> 
> halam sahlin - This ends now  
> ma sa'lath - my one love  
> da'mi - little blade
> 
> Hello! I love my Dalish Warden and Zevran and my laptop doesn't support Inquisition so I never got to finish it!! (Mass Effect Andromeda ran well enough for me to finish that, however. For some reason). I'm unsatisfied with most DA fanfics, as they make their main characters too personal, so my hope is to intrigue at least one person. I wrote this without having a clue as to its future, so if you have any ideas, shout out and comment! Otherwise, this is just an introduction. I'm 25 this year, not in college, and have nothing to do, but am unmotivated. Motivate me, if you feel like it. Tell me how and why I should continue. I do live off feedback. Thanks for reading!!


End file.
